He Defines Me TBGC
Author: Pissed Off Eskimo (Randi Shane)
Pairing: Harry/Voldemort; Harry/Snape; Harry/Draco; Harry/Lucius
Warning: slavery, brainwashing, noncon, shotakon
Summary: AU; rather than kill him, Voldemort hid Harry's existence from the world and raised him as a pet. Fourteen years later, he is rescued.
Author's Note: This is a rewrite. For the sake of posterity, the old version of this story has been left up, feel free to take a look and giggle madly at me ineptitude. Now, onto important business: this story is very disturbing. It is about someone being raised as a sex slave from infancy and the kind of effects that would have on the person later in life. If this bothers you, please, don't read it. If this offends you, please do not read it.
Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Death Eater for the Dark Lord, and spy for Albus Dumbledore, had been waiting a long time for this battle. To be specific, he'd been waiting fifteen years.
Fifteen, long and tiring years in which the war between the Dark and Light sides of the wizarding world waxed and waned in constant fluctuation. One moment the Dark Lord seemed sure to win, and next, the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's secret army, shoved him back, and he hunkered down for a year or two of planning.
It was annoying to those caught in the middle, whose line of loyalty was hard to pin and it was damned frustrating to those like Severus who were spies, walking a thin rope just to keep themselves from getting caught, and it scared the shite out of anyone who, like the Potters, were willing to take an obvious stand against Him, no matter who was currently winning.
When Voldemort had killed the Potter's those fifteen years ago, their deaths had not, as he expected, been a devastating toll on the wizarding world. It had been just the opposite. The small family of three had become martyrs. Shortly after their fall was the first time Voldemort had been forced to take a step back and regroup. It was the last thing any of them, Severus included, had expected, and it was the beginning of the trend that would plague them for so long.
Only days after the death of the Potter family, Severus had seen what he then hoped was the beginning of the end. Voldemort had called them to a meeting and announced that they needed a secure location, a headquarters. For a man so cautious and secretive, it seemed strange that he would suddenly want a permanent address, but Severus was hardly going to argue the point. Up until now, his position as a spy had yielded few results, his most poignant failing being that he could not pinpoint a place for the Order to attack.
While Severus gathered data and tried to determine the location of the headquarters, Voldemort continued to act stranger still. For one, the new headquarters itself, warded to keep even those apparating to it from knowing its location, was nothing more than a muggle house. Granted, it was two stories and quite expansive, but it was still a muggle house, in a muggle village, somewhere out in the middle of muggle nowhere.
As if that had not been enough to convince Severus that the Dark Lord had finally lost his mind completely, Voldemort had insisted Narcissa Malfoy help him decorate. Severus might not have known about this if he had not been there discussing a particularly difficult potion the Lord wanted when she'd first arrived, carrying her tiny son, Draco, with her. Apparently, she was to start in his bed chambers, as he was having great difficulty sleeping. Something about the Dark Lord losing sleep over the decor of his suite was unsettling at best, especially as the results of said sleep depravation were becoming visibly apparent, leaving dark circles under his eyes and occasionally what looked like food on his robes.
Severus knew from listening to Lucius' rants about her decorating frenzies, that she was capable of finishing a master suite in only a matter of days. However, even weeks later, she was still spending hours of every day in his private chamber. The Death Eater grape vine had it that Lucius approved of whatever she was doing. The grape vine also had it that what she was doing was teaching him to change, feed, hold, and rock Draco to sleep. Which just went to prove exactly how reliable that particular grape vine was. Severus would give his right hand before he could see Voldemort touching a baby and Lucius was certainly in a mood those months, snapping at everyone who stepped within ten feet of him and firing off Crucio like it was a charm, which hardly led Severus to believe he in any way approved of what his wife and his liege were up to.
Within a few months, though, things began to calm down. Narcissa's visits slowed, then stopped, and not a word was heard of it again. Voldemort appeared to be getting his rest again, though he had the occasional bought of crankiness. Lucius' anger even seemed to temper itself some, though he'd never been a particularly congenial man to begin with.
Despite the fact that he was worn, tired, and in dire straights over the state of his master suite, Voldemort had neglected none of his wards or various obscuring charms. The little muggle home was an undetectable as Hogwarts. Perhaps even more so, as it was meant to be invisible to wizard and muggle alike. Death Eaters were brought to the location once by means of slidealong apparition with one of the few members of Voldemort's inner circle, after which, a clear mental image was all they needed to return.
'A clear mental image' did nothing to aid Severus in his search for the Headquarters. At least, he had thought as much, until one of his students, a second year mudblood named Herman Fulborough, had seen a drawing Severus had done of it and said, quite plainly, "I know that house, we have a picture of it in our living room."
Apparently, his grandfather's cousin had been the caretaker of the home some years back. They'd never been friends with the man, but Herman's mother thought the picture had an eerie quality to it. It seemed incredibly ironic that a depiction of the Dark Lord's headquarters was hanging above an electric fireplace in Kent and that his possible downfall would be brought about by a mudblood, the very thing he was and despised all at the same time.
Having finally found the location to attack, Severus had been sure, along with many of the Aurors, that this was surely the end. That by attacking him at his base of operations, his long standing headquarters, that they would finally capture Voldemort and end this bloody war. Better yet, Severus was counting on him refusing to budge and getting killed, which, admittedly, still resulted in the end of the war, but would be much more satisfying to him personally.
"Tell me again, Igor, why I should believe that you have not betrayed me." Voldemort's overly patient tone snapped Severus from his thoughts. If there was one thing Voldemort was not, it was patient and that tone, the one that said he was willing to wait all night to get the answers he wanted, meant exactly the opposite. It meant someone was going to die and most likely it would happen soon.
"M... my lord, I've always... I'd never..."
"Yes, yes, we've been through this. You've always been faithful. You've never double cross me." Voldemort tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "What I'm not entirely sure of, Igor, is whether you are telling me the truth. Are you?"
Severus saw the promise of death even before the killing curse was cast. Vaguely, he remembered a time, long ago, when he would have had to fight to watch this without cringing. That time had long since past and so he kept his eyes open, watching the wand raise, Voldemort's lower lip drawing in to form the words...
The house shook and Severus braced his feet, barely managing to keep himself from falling into an undignified heap on the floor. A glance towards Voldemort's direction confirmed that Lucius had not been so successful and was angrily getting back to his feet, straightening his robes.
Voldemort was standing, looking murderous, "It's an attack."
Severus tensed, because that was a far more acceptable reaction than sighing in relief. Fifteen years of waiting and they were finally here.
It didn't take the Death Eaters long to mobilize. The vast majority of them were great cowards, yes, but they were far more afraid of what Voldemort would do to them than anything the Ministry might have in store.
As soon as he was outside Severus found an Auror he knew to be in the Order and began flinging spells in her direction, though purposefully wide of her actual person. She had seemed annoyed at first, until she'd realized it was him. They set about a game, a dance, almost, by which only their sloppiest, most harmless spells actually hit, and hoped that no one noticed.
Severus was throwing off a weak leg locking curse, when he noticed that he, along with the other Death Eaters, had fallen back nearly to the house. It was most definitely time to check on the situation. Giving the girl an almost apologetic look, he threw a well aimed Stunning charm and made a rush towards Lucius, who was helping the back line keep the wards up around the house.
Seeing Severus rushing in his direction, Lucius looked back at Voldemort. "We have to retreat!" Much to Severus' disdain, the Dark Lord nodded, turning around to head into the house. Trying desperately to maintain his concentration and speak clearly at the same time, Lucius looked over his shoulder, "My Lord, we can not afford the time, leave it."
His face darkened with rage, and Severus stepped back a pace, adding his own weak influence to the wards while listening intently. "I will not leave it behind, Malfoy."
"Then have someone else get it, you need to get out of here now. As my lord and Master I will not see you get caught over some fool possession."
For a moment, Severus expected Him to curse Lucius into the netherworlds, but he simply scowled instead, "You may be my right hand man, but do not speak to me that way. Snape!" Turning his head, and dropping what little magic he was maintaining, Severus turned to the Dark Lord and nodded. "Go to my room, get what's there and bring it to me. Do not fail."
Without waiting for a reply He walked away to announce their retreat. Lucius looked over his shoulder, gasping, "The wards will hold for a few minutes longer. When they drop, apparate to Malfoy Manor, I'll meet you there and we'll take it to the new headquarters."
Marching into the house, Severus looked around the halls to ensure that they were empty before removing his mask. Damn thing was stuffy, it impaired vision, hindered breathing, and was an over all bad idea, but most of His supporters preferred the anonymity is provided.
He'd half made it to the Dark Lords private room when it dawned on him that he didn't know what 'it' was. He had some idea of what it might be, as he'd heard occasional gossip of a pet of some sort, but no one had ever seen it, let alone knew what kind of animal it was, or where it might be hiding as the house was violently shaking. Then, what if it wasn't an animal at all? What if was a book or a map, or, hell, his personal diary?
Severus opened the door to the Dark Lord's room, allowing himself a moment to take in the surroundings. The bed was set against the left most wall, large and imposing, but what caught his eye first was the cage at the foot of that bed. So, animal it was, and a rather large on if the size of the cage was anything to go by.
Sweeping his eyes around the surprisingly small room, he noted the bookshelf against the back wall, the high back, overly stuffed chair in one corner, a dark haired boy peering around from behind that chair, and an amour against the right wall. There was a door to the right as well, probably leading into... Wait, a boy?
Looking back at the chair he saw whoever it was duck back behind it, as though hoping he hadn't been seen. Severus stood his ground, forcing himself to loosen his grip on the doorknob. "Who's there?"
After a minute of silence, he heard a small, voice reply. "Are you a Death Eater?" It was slightly deeper than he'd expected, at half glance the boy had appeared to be no more than a young child.
When Severus gave no response, the boy slowly began to stand up and turn around. For nearly a full minute, Severus was stunned beyond breathing. It was a teenager, perhaps around fourteen or fifteen. He had varying lengths of dark brown hair, the longest to his chin, and the shortest nearly sticking up around his ears. His skin was ivory pale and completely unmarked from what Severus could see, and there really wasn't much that couldn't be seen. All the boy wore was a pair of loose fitted leather shorts, a thin collar around his neck, and thick leather wrist and ankle cuffs, complete with metal hoops. Severus did a double take as his eyes focused on what appeared to be a... nipple ring?
The boy's eyes were a sparkling green, wide and trusting as he scanned Severus, taking in his black robes and the white mask he held in his hand. "You are a Death Eater. What's going on? I've never seen you before."
Not sure how to reply, Severus stared a little longer, trying to gather his thoughts. There really was no mistaking it, no matter how unlikely it seemed, this was the 'it' Lucius and Voldemort had been talking about. This child was what he was supposed to deliver to Malfoy.
The boy took a slow step forward, "Mister, what's wrong? Where's Master? Is he hurt?"
Master. He'd called Voldemort Master. Shaking his head to clear it, Severus asked the first thing that came to mind, "Who are you?"
"Who am I?" The question rolled off the boy's tongue as though it were unfamiliar or tasted foul, "I'm Master's pet. Who are you?"
It had an arrogant sound to it, and Severus was half tempted to say something arrogant in return. However, now was not the time to let his temper get the best of him. He fought the urge to sigh as he tried to determine the best course of action. "Do you have a name?"
"I don't think so."
He sounded more innocent than Severus would have thought possibly from someone who called themselves Voldemort's pet. There was something familiar about him, something that just didn't fit with the scant clothing and collar. The house shook again and the boy gripped the chair, crouching down. "What's going on? The house's never moved before."
Severus took a deep breath. He couldn't take the boy back to the Dark Lord, but he would have to come up with a very good excuse, and soon. Voldemort would not be pleased at losing his pet. "Listen carefully, the house is being attacked and I was sent to fetch you, so you'll have to trust me."
He'd expected a fight. He'd expected an argument. He'd expected any number of things. What he hadn't expected was for the boy to shrug and come over to stand next to him, expression open and trusting. "Whatever you say."
As the wards crackled a final time and died completely, Severus felt the wash of energy, and quickly performed the apparition, sending them tumbling to the ground outside the gates of Hogwarts - tumbling, because when he's tried to place a hand on the child's shoulder, he'd been leached onto, gangly arms wrapped tightly around his waist, head tucked against Severus' chest as though the boy were frightened.
Seeing no one in the immediate vicinity, Severus took his cloak off and draped it around the child, who looked up at him with a face, not full of fear as Severus had expected, but curiosity and confusion, "What's that for?"
"Decency?" The look in the boy's face told him he had no clue what Severus was talking about. "Just walk, this is Hogwarts. You'll be staying here."
Dumbledore and Severus stood on either side of the door to the Potion Master's living room, watching the boy sitting cross legged on the floor contentedly watching them back. He hadn't moved in the ten minutes they'd been standing there, just stared at them, as though they were the most interesting thing he had ever seen.
For the entire walk from the gates to the small set of rooms Severus called his own, the boy's hold on him had constituted a death grip. The child's fingers had been white around the folds of his robes and Severus had had to tell him when they were reaching steps, because he'd refused to pull his face out of the black clothe long enough to see where he was going.
It had taken them nearly twenty minutes to get to the dungeons and through the painting that acted as Severus' door, but the moment the painting had thunked shut against wall, the boy had melted away from Severus. He hadn't take a step back, or looked around, he'd simple relaxed his grip and moved to stand straight, looking up at Severus with those hauntingly familiar, green eyes.
Putting hands on the boy's shoulders, Severus had pushed him back until the boy sat heavily on the couch, still looking up at Severus, not caring about his surroundings or what dangers they posed. He was so unnaturally trusting that it very nearly unnerved Severus, but Severus was not a man easily unnerved, so he'd stepped back and took in the site.
The robes hadn't been buttons and they'd fallen open at the neck to reveal a bare hint of the pale skin underneath. Reaching forward again, Severus had closed the gap, ignoring the boy's face as it screwed up in distaste. He'd caught the boy's eyes and held them, a trick he'd learned his first year of teaching. "Do not move. Do not touch anything."
The boy had nodded and there hadn't anything to indicate that he had been intimidated in the least. Stepping away again, Severus had waited to see if he would disobey, waited for him to so much as shift, so Severus could say, 'I told you not to move!' But he'd done none of that. It was like he'd been glued to the spot by Severus' words.
The stand off lasted several minutes, before Severus had finally done something he hadn't in many, many years. He'd given in. Walking over to his fireplace, he had thrown in a pinch of floo powder and said, "Dumbledore's office," before sticking his head in the flames.
Dumbledore had been sitting in the chair at his desk, his face in his hands and Severus had almost felt sorry for interrupting the moment. "Albus."
Dumbledore had looked up, his eyes weary. "Severus, you're back early."
"There's been a... development." Up till then, he hadn't really thought about how he was going to explain it. "I think you should come here."
"Of course, check in with Poppy and I'll be down..."
"I think you should come now."
He had looked back at the boy sitting on his couch, staring at him with too-wide eyes. Oh, good lord, Severus knew that look. It was the look of someone who had never seen a floo before. His stomach twisted at the idea that this might be a muggle child.
When he had looked back, Dumbledore's face was pinched tight, but he nodded. "Step back."
Severus complied, standing and moving back from the fire as Dumbledore had stepped through, landing gracefully onto the hearth rug, his eyes immediately seeking out Severus. "Now, my dear boy, what has happened?"
Sternly, Severus had pointed towards his couch and Dumbeldore had followed the gesture, starting as his eyes came to rest on the boy. "Oh my."
"Oh my, indeed. I found him at the headquarters, in His room. He says he's..."
Severus had faltered and Dumbledore had looked at the boy, who smiled, "I'm Master's Pet."
Dumbledore had nodded calmly and said, "Ah," as if those three words explained everything. Severus had moved to stand next to his door and Dumbledore had followed him, "Severus, explain to me what happened."
So, Severus had, in hushed tones. As he talked, his mind worked through years of the Dark Lord's curious behavior, of rumors he'd never given credence to and he voiced his suspicions. Voldemort had had this boy since they'd taken up the Headquarters fifteen years ago. In fact, the boy may very well have been the reason there had been a Headquarters. When he finished, Dumbledore leaned back and looked at child, his blank expression matching Severus' numbed mind while the boy sat there, and stared back, perfectly happy.
Suddenly, the boy moved and if Severus hadn't trained himself so thoroughly not to react to anything, he might have jumped. Sitting up straighter, the boy stretched his arms over his head and the cloak fell back behind his shoulders, revealing his bare chest and long legs. Severus rushed forward, pulled the arms down and he began buttoning the robe while Albus adjusted from the shock that Severus had experienced the first time he'd seen the boy's attire. Stopping at the fourth button down, Severus met the boy's gaze, hoping he could find a way to explain that exposing himself like that was not appropriate, but instead he found himself facing someone long dead.
With the black cloak buttoned at the neck line and hiding the shocking body underneath it was much easier to concentrate on the face. It was the same face that had haunted Severus for years. The face of James Potter.